Chapter 8
Cam
Idump Rafe’s bag in the room across from mine, trying not to focus too deeply on him being single. It’s happened before and never lasted long. Besides, right now, Rafe needs time to sort through his thoughts, because he looks confused. Sorta like he wants to throw up.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to be sick with nerves at having him in my space. He’s so close after years of nothing but light antagonism between us, and while I desperately want to jump his bones, there’s also something I need more than that—for us to be okay again.
So I shelve all those thoughts of his lips and his hands and instead focus on rebuilding what we had at one point.
“I know it sounds sort of meaningless, but if you need to talk, I’m here. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I know it can’t be easy.”
To my surprise, he laughs softly. “Maybe not for the reason you think.”
I’d expected to be brushed off instantly, but that sounds like the opening to a conversation. “I have iced tea downstairs,” I offer.
Rafe screws up his gorgeous face. “Who the hell drinks that?”
“Well, I ran out of mineral water milked from a goddess’s bosom, so I’ve had to make do.”
“I’m more than happy with coffee.”
“That’s lucky because now I’m thinking of it, I’m not even sure I have iced tea.”
“You’re so weird, Cam.”
Hearing him say my name really shouldn’t be as exciting as it is.
“And thank you,” he says. “I appreciate you letting me stay.”
The sincerity catches me off guard. We’re not sincere with each other, not anymore. I can’t handle it. “But we’re still a no on that French maid outfit?”
“Hey, you can wear what you like. Don’t let my being here stop you.”
“And what if I normally wear nothing?”
“Go right ahead.” His voice catches slightly, and while I want to read into it, there’s next to no chance it means what I’d want it to.
He changes out of his church clothes, then joins me in the kitchen.
I switch on the coffee maker. “So what about this breakup isn’t what I think?”
“It’s …” He drums his fingers on the counter. “I don’t know if I want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough. Just know you can though.” It’s so hard not to push.
“There’s a lot going on that even I’m not sure about.”
I narrow my eyes. “She’s not cheating, is she?”
“Hell no.” He shakes his head to drive the point home. “Laura would never. It’s more that …”
I keep quiet, curious if he’s actually going to spill.
“Argh, it’s nothing.”
Damn it. I’m not surprised. It’s not like we can go back to being the sort of friends who tell each other everything just because I want it that way. I wait for the coffee to finish, then pour him a cup and hand it over, watching him for any signs of doubt.
Nothing.
At least for the moment.
“Hey, do you remember that time Carter Seigar climbed onto the school roof and the teachers all lost their ever-loving minds over it?” I ask.
Rafe chuckles. “Could you imagine if he got hurt though?”
“We were kids. We didn’t care about that stuff when we were, like, eight.”
“Especially you. I swear you were born without the self-preservation gene. I nearly pissed myself when you did that balcony jump into Jules’s parents’ pool.”
“Oh yeah … at her sixteenth?”
“I think so.”
I grin at the memory. Her house is built on a slope, and the distance from the balcony to the water was way farther than I’d estimated from the ground.
“I was shit scared when I climbed up there, but by that point, I’d already committed.
I figured it didn’t matter whether I aced it or was rushed to the hospital.
At least it would be talked about for a couple of weeks. ”
Rafe shakes his head, bemused. “Of course you aced it. I was so relieved you didn’t challenge me to do it with you.”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Bullshit.” Rafe’s smiling. “You didn’t challenge me to anything back then. It’s like you got too cool and popular with all your Bassington friends. You didn’t have time to do dumb shit with me anymore.”
That’s what he thinks? “Are you kidding? You’re the one who shoved a stick up his ass and suddenly became a fun repellent.”
“I was always a fun repellent,” Rafe says like I should know this. “The only time I wasn’t was when we hung out. Without you I’m boring and … miserable.” The teasing drops from his face, and we both sit there weighing his words. I’m sure he meant them as a joke, so why didn’t it sound that way?
“You’re miserable without me?” I shouldn’t ask the question, but I’m dying to know. I’m also setting myself up for a massive disappointment, but watch me not care about my own feelings.
Rafe shifts awkwardly. “I’m being dramatic. I just mean that I liked hanging out with you.”
“Until Laura.” And I didn’t mean for the conversation to get heavy, but I’m headfirst in it now.
“What?”
“You never went anywhere without her.”
“That wasn’t my fault. She used to invite herself.”
I remember differently, but I’ll let him have his delusions. “You didn’t try to stop her though.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He busies himself with drinking his coffee, and I try not to be obvious about watching him.
Rafe is classically handsome. Soft black hair, straight nose, a jawline I could break my teeth on. But he also has one of the most expressive faces I’ve ever seen, and I used to love watching him and trying to guess what was going on in his head.
Whatever it is now, I have no idea.
I can’t read him anymore.
Awkwardness creeps over me as I scratch the back of my neck. “I guess, uh, this is your truce. No more dumb pranks—at least while you’re staying here.”
“It only took me upending my entire life,” he jokes.
“You don’t sound that upset about it.”
“It comes and goes.”
I’m waiting for Rafe to make his excuses to get away from me, but when I move from the kitchen to the living room, he pours himself another coffee and comes with me—even if he sits as far from me on the couch as possible.
“You still like superhero movies?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I switch on Netflix and select the first movie I find. If nothing else, having the distraction will ease any awkwardness.
We watch the first half in silence. It’s not until a quieter part that Rafe leans over and nudges me with his foot.
“Can I ask you something weird?”
“Depends.” I spin and lean against the armrest so I’m facing him. “Are we talking addicted-to-licking-paint weird or you-think-you’ve-been-experimented-on-and-they-left-the-probe-up-there weird?”
He blinks at me. “I … Can we pretend you didn’t answer me, and I’ll just continue?”
“Probably a good idea.”
He draws his knees to his chest, and he looks so cozy it warms me inside. “H-how … how did you know you were gay?”
That’s the last question I’m expecting. “Uh, I realized that I didn’t think about girls like I did guys. I think girls are pretty, nice, but guys are sexy. All types of guys. The way they move, the way they look … smell. Everything.”
Whatever response he’d wanted, that wasn’t it.
“Plus, they make me hard.” I shrug. “Probably the same way you knew you were into girls.”
He shifts, dropping his gaze to his knees.
“What if I never …” He abruptly shakes his head. “Don’t worry.”
“No, hey.” I scoot a little closer. “Look, you don’t have to talk about anything, but I promise to turn off the snark if you need me to.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Remember back when we used to tell each other everything?”
Rafe smirks even as he starts to chew on his pinky nail. “No.”
“So it was only me, then?”
“You have never told me everything.”
Well, maybe not everything, but everything important, at least. “Then let’s start now.”
“I—” He cuts off again. I’d shake him if he wasn’t clearly struggling with something.
“Is it serious?”
“To me, yeah. I guess. But maybe less serious and more confusing.”
“And …” I have to tread carefully here. “It has something to do with … being gay? Or … your sexuality?”
All the tension leaves his shoulders. “I think I’m defective.”
“There’s a ten-dollar word.”
A flicker of amusement lights and dies on his face. “It’s sort of embarrassing.”
“No-judgment zone.” I pretend to draw a square between us. “There was a time in college I got so drunk I stripped off all my clothes to throw up, but I took the time to fold them neatly first. When I woke up, I was in a backyard full of people. So …”
“You had to say judgment-free zone before you spilled that, didn’t you?”
“I knew you wouldn’t want your high opinion of me impacted.”
“Generous of you.”
“Thanks.” I try my luck and shift a little closer. “Seriously though, what’s up?”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Well, then blurt out words, and we’ll work through what they mean after.”
“Everyone is either in love or hooking up, and I’m scared that what I had with Laura is as good as it gets. I was … content with her, and what if that’s all I could ever have, and now I’ve blown it?”
“Right. Okay. Well, they were certainly words.” I think through what he said. “Why do you think that way?”
He cringes. “I don’t know if I can feel what other people do.”
“What do you mean?”
I’m starting to get a little bit of a hunch on what he’s skirting around. He’s chewing on three fingers now, looking scared, and he reminds me of myself ten years ago.
“It’s hard to explain. Like, I love Laura.”
Ouch. Straight shot to the heart.
“But it’s not the right kind of love. I’m not, I dunno, head over heels or whatever. It’s more the way I love Tanner and Leon. Plus, I never want to, umm …”
“Rafe?”
“Have sex?” He slams his eyes closed. “It’s a chore, and sometimes it’s okay, but mostly I struggle with it, and I’m never more relieved than when she doesn’t want it either.” His words are so fast they almost blur together.
My immediate reaction is to pull him in for a hug and tell him that there’s nothing wrong with that, with him, but I also don’t want to make this a big deal. Rafe is already uncomfortable, and with how hard it was for him to get the words out, I want him to know it’s normal.
“You’re not interested in sex?”
He huffs. “It’s like I’m not interested in anything. Sex. Love. I mean, I want to be, and everyone else seems to be having a great time with it, but I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to.”
He’s reluctant when he looks at me again. “What do you mean?”
“There are so many diverse identities out there, and not everyone fits in a box. Have you heard of the split attraction model?”
His lips silently form the words split attraction model. “No.”
“Basically, emotional and sexual attraction are two separate things. Sometimes they align, sometimes they don’t. You can be biromantic and heterosexual, for example, or homoromantic and homosexual like me, or … maybe you could be aromantic and asexual.”
“What are they?”
“You’ve never heard the terms?”
He hurries to nod. “I have, sort of. But only in passing and on the internet or whatever. I’ve never looked up what they mean.”
“No wonder you find it hard to talk about. It’s isolating to think you’re the only one, but there are a ton of people like you. It’s totally normal to love Laura platonically but not be sexually or emotionally attracted to her.”
“Wow.” He stares across the room.
“Can I ask you something?”
“As long as it’s not anal probing weird, then go for it.”
I appreciate him trying to joke, but this is the one time I’m happy to wear my serious hat. “Have you ever been, umm, attracted to anyone?”
His eyes flick my way and then quickly refocus back on the wall. “Possibly.”
“Not to be crass, but remember the day I came out to you?”
“Kinda burned in my memory.”
“Good, I like to be memorable,” I say playfully. “But … it’s sort of burned into my memory too, and I remember certain things being happy about what was happening.”
He gets tense like he always does when he’s embarrassed. “I can get it up.” He almost sounds defensive. “It’s just always been better to deal with things solo.”
“I’m not going to force a label on you or anything, but it does sound sort of ace to me.”
“And that means?”
“Asexuals, in the most basic form, are people who don’t experience sexual attraction, but there’s a whole range. It might be worth looking into.”
“All this time I thought I had a stupidly low sex drive.”
“If it turns out that’s what it is, that’s cool too, you know.”
Rafe looks doubtful. “I’m a guy in his midtwenties who couldn’t care less about sex. I feel like a freaking unicorn.”
“What a coincidence. They’re my favorite mythical creature.”
We fall into a silence that doesn’t feel as stale as our earlier ones.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “I don’t think you should ever settle.”
“Laura’s hardly settling. She’s great.”
“She is. But … maybe she’s not great for you. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Sure, I want to be the one who’s meant for him, but it’s the same advice I’d give anyone. I’m trying to keep my own emotions out of this conversation, because that’s what Rafe needs.
“And if I never find that again?”
I can’t meet his eyes when I answer him. “I’ve had a similar choice before. Settle down with someone who ticked all the boxes on paper, who I liked well enough, or hold out for that person who knocked the wind from my lungs.”
“Yeah … I want those thousand volts.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but there’s conviction there, so I figure he’s peptalking himself into something. “You deserve better than contentment.”
“Ten-dollar word.”
We lock eyes, and I smile. It takes a minute, but his lips tug up and smile back. It makes my heart swim, I’m so desperate for this connection with him. Sex or no sex, my feelings for him are never going to change. I wouldn’t know who I was without them.
“I’m glad we spoke,” he says.
“Yeah.” It’s been long overdue. “I’m glad we did too.”